The Supreme Young Master

Chapter 7:

After Qin Fei went upstairs, he lingered behind the door for a while, eavesdropping. 

He realized that Yang Guoming was still very protective of the original Qin Yifei, always defending him. This knowledge reassured Qin Fei—especially when he heard that Yang Ruoxi didn’t bring up divorce again.

Since he was now Qin Yifei, Yang Ruoxi was his wife—a stunning woman with a strong sense of justice. He felt he ought to cherish her.

The previous Qin Yifei had lived a pitiful existence. 

Qin Fei already had a plan: step by step, he would show his cold and aloof wife what it truly meant to be a man.

However, a hot shower left him utterly drained. The day’s physical exertion had been enormous for this feeble body.

The moment he reached the large bed, he collapsed onto it and fell into a deep sleep.

He would have slept until the next morning if not for Yang Ruoxi’s furious voice coming from the doorway: “Qin Yifei, get down here right now!”

Covering her eyes in embarrassment and anger, Yang Ruoxi kept her voice low to avoid alerting her parents downstairs. She shut the door tightly, her tone simmering with suppressed rage.

“What’s wrong?” Qin Fei opened his eyes and saw Yang Ruoxi’s flushed face. She was so livid that her chest heaved, accentuating her curves. The sight nearly gave him a nosebleed.

“You… you pervert! Why aren’t you wearing clothes after your shower?” Yang Ruoxi was mortified. She had started calming down but became enraged again when she saw Qin Fei lying stark naked on her bed, resting his head on her new silk lingerie.

Although she knew Qin Yifei had once saved her life, he was still regarded as a “fool” in her eyes—someone who acted and spoke like a child.

What she wanted was a man who could resonate with her, both emotionally and intellectually. Qin Yifei fell far short of her expectations.

Yang Ruoxi’s feelings were complicated, a mix of frustration and helplessness. She felt trapped, uncertain about how to face the rest of her life.

Seeing Yang Ruoxi leaning against the door, looking as though she might cry, Qin Fei sat up awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I was too tired and fell asleep.”

“Fine. Your clothes are in the cabinet over there. Get dressed. I’m going to take a shower,” Yang Ruoxi said, taking a deep breath and wiping the corners of her reddened eyes. She decided not to argue further and turned toward the bathroom to wash away the day’s exhaustion.

When she came out of the bathroom, Qin Fei had already put on his pajamas and was lying on the floor mat with his hands behind his head, seemingly watching her.

Yang Ruoxi frowned slightly, feeling uneasy. 

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something about Qin Fei had changed since the car accident, though she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

Sitting down, she tugged at the hem of her nightgown to cover her legs and looked at him. “Let me ask you—why were you at the bar last night?”

“I was in a bad mood,” Qin Fei replied. He had full access to Qin Yifei’s memories and knew exactly what had happened.

Yang Ruoxi was momentarily stunned. Her husband’s speech was becoming more coherent and normal. “Was it because I slapped you?”

“Yes. I have my dignity, too,” Qin Fei said plainly.

Dignity?

Yang Ruoxi blinked, surprised. 

She realized she had overlooked something all these years—her husband, though a bit foolish, was still a man in his twenties.

Yesterday morning, she had slapped him twice in anger, which must have hurt his pride as a man.

Her expression softened. “Alright, I’ll apologize. I was wrong…”

“There’s no need. You’re my wife. I forgive you,” Qin Fei said, glancing at her with a slight smile. “But from now on, don’t treat me like a fool. I’ll prove to you that I’m a worthy husband.”

“Fine, just don’t cause any more trouble,” Yang Ruoxi replied dismissively, yawning. “It’s late. Let’s sleep.”

“Goodnight, wife,” Qin Fei said with a grin before closing his eyes.

This was the first time Yang Ruoxi had exchanged so many words with her husband. 

To her, Qin Fei had always been an insignificant presence in her life. 

Her days revolved around school, work, and solving cases, while Qin Fei rarely left home, often locking himself in the study. There were times when they didn’t see each other for months.

Even after getting married, they had never so much as held hands. He slept on the floor while she had the bed to herself.

Had she been too harsh?

Yang Ruoxi questioned herself before shaking her head. Even if Qin Fei now spoke clearly and acted more normally, she still couldn’t bring herself to like him.

Unless he could make her genuinely fall in love with him, there was no way she could imagine doing anything intimate with him.

Qin Fei, however, wasn’t bothered. His priority was to earn money, buy rare medicinal herbs, and refine pills to restore this frail body.

Once his body recovered, it could withstand his powerful soul. And when his former strength returned, wealth and status would come effortlessly.

At that point, Yang Ruoxi wouldn’t just stop disliking him—she’d be proud of him. After all, no woman could resist a man who could stand tall and command respect.

Before his death, that was exactly the kind of man Qin Fei had been.

…

Meanwhile, in a study with traditional decor, a gray-haired man in a black vest sat smoking a pipe, his expression solemn.

“Dad, that’s everything that happened. He killed those three kidnappers and even took down two wolves barehanded. He saved me. I want to invite him over for dinner,” Zhao Muxin said, now dressed in a white dress with her long black hair cascading over her shoulders. She looked like a princess straight out of a fairytale.

“Muxin, it’s not that I don’t believe you. I’ve already had Chief Wang send me this man’s file,” Zhao Zhongyi said, frowning. “His name is Qin Yifei. He’s twenty-five years old and has lived in Yang Guoming’s house as a live-in son-in-law. He never went to school, never left Jiang City, and frequently visited hospitals due to his poor health. His intelligence is reportedly equivalent to that of a ten-year-old child. So tell me, how could someone like that learn to shoot or kill wolves barehanded? Were you perhaps too frightened and imagined things?”

Zhao Zhongyi, a veteran of the business world, was far sharper than most. He found Muxin’s story riddled with inconsistencies.

Could a frail “idiot” really take down three A-grade fugitives and kill wolves barehanded? Even a highly trained special forces soldier would struggle with such a feat.

Zhao Muxin pouted and huffed. “I don’t care. I want to invite him for dinner! You didn’t see it—he killed a wolf with just a tree branch. It was so cool! He’s my hero!”

“Muxin, listen. Let me investigate this matter further. Once everything is clear, then we can invite him over. He’s living at Yang Guoming’s house, so he’s not going anywhere,” Zhao Zhongyi said.

Seeing the stars in his daughter’s eyes whenever she mentioned Qin Fei, Zhao Zhongyi felt a surge of unease.

Whether or not Qin Fei was truly a fool, he was already married. If his daughter fell for a married man, it would be a disaster.

Determined to uncover the truth, Zhao Zhongyi decided to investigate personally. 

If Qin Fei was genuinely a fool, it wouldn’t matter. But if he was hiding something, Zhao Zhongyi wouldn’t hesitate to teach him a lesson.

He headed downstairs, where a tall young man was pacing. Upon seeing Zhao Zhongyi, the man asked anxiously, “Uncle, is Muxin alright?”

“She’s fine, just a little shaken. She’s resting now. I’m sorry to trouble you so late, Xiaotian,” Zhao Zhongyi said.

“Uncle, don’t mention it,” the young man, Long Zaitian, replied as he helped Zhao Zhongyi to a seat.

Though only in his fifties, Zhao Zhongyi’s years of hard work had taken a toll on his health. 

Long Zaitian was well aware of this and held great respect for him.

Zhao Zhongyi was quite fond of Long Zaitian. 

In his early twenties, the young man had already taken over his family’s “Dragon-Tiger Hall” and was an expert martial artist, with numerous international accolades to his name.

Zhao Zhongyi envisioned a future where Muxin and Long Zaitian would marry after she graduated, convinced that the two would make a perfect match.

After a moment of contemplation, Zhao Zhongyi set down his pipe and asked, “Xiaotian, if I gave you a tree branch, could you pierce a wolf with it?”

Long Zaitian thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Uncle, real wolves are cunning and ferocious. They often rub against pine trees, coating their fur with resin to enhance their defense. Piercing one with a tree branch is practically impossible.”

“I see…”

Zhao Zhongyi frowned, recalling how lightly Qin Fei had accomplished such a feat in Muxin’s story. 

Could Qin Fei really be stronger than Long Zaitian?

Suspicious but cautious, Zhao Zhongyi decided not to jump to conclusions. “Xiaotian, come with me tomorrow. There’s someone I want to meet.”